


Winter in the trenches

by pearlbali (resqueln)



Category: Blackadder
Genre: Gen, Snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resqueln/pseuds/pearlbali
Summary: Winter brought a special edge to the cold of the trenches.





	Winter in the trenches

Winter brought a special edge to the cold of the trenches. The all-pervading damp stopped being just damp and branched out into icy with general overtones of bitter. The two men on watch huddled as close to the sandbag walls of the trench as they could, heads bowed in a meagre attempt to keep warm. 

They stood in silence. Blackadder shifted his weight from one wet foot to another, mud squelching under the soles of his boots as he moved. It was probably lucky he had lost all sensation from the knees down at least two hours ago. Behind him came the gentle rhythm of voices, George and Baldrick wittering on further back in the darkness. In the distance the metallic rattle of gun fire sounded.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Blackadder saw Darling sneak a look at his watch. Five past one, Blackadder knew it would say. He’d snuck a look at his own a few minutes before. Darling sighed and then fell silent again. After a few minutes, his head began to droop, nodding towards his chest. 

Blackadder waited a few seconds and then said loudly: “Why General Melchett, what a lovely surprise.”

The reaction was immediate and gratifying - Darling sprung awake, straightening up and looking around desperately. Blackadder smirked. “Sorry, Darling, did I wake you?”

“Ha ha. I wasn’t asleep. I was just – resting,” Darling sneered. “As if anyone could sleep out here anyway,” he muttered.

“I see. Will this be going in your report on trench conditions to the General? Feather beds and bed time stories were not provided on watch?”

Static gunfire burst overhead. Both of them dropped to a crouch like their strings had been cut. Eventually it ceased. Cautiously, Blackadder stood again. “I was unable to get my eight hours due to the Germans shooting at me?”

“Grow up, Blackadder. You know this report wasn’t my idea.”

“Yes, that’s a knotty one. Where do you think the General came up with the idea? Or was he just trying to get rid of you for a few weeks?”

“No, actually,” Darling snapped, eye twitching. “It was orders.”

“From who?” Blackadder asked, genuinely curious.

It seemed impossible that the very Generals who asked their men to walk slowly into gunfire had suddenly developed an interest in said men’s comfort and quality of life. Darling opened and shut his mouth a couple of times. “He didn’t say,” he said sullenly. Blackadder smirked. 

Over the smell of rotting damp and rusting metal came a low creeping odour that poured into their nostrils and dissolved their nose hairs. It was followed by the ominous sound of clanking tin mugs.  
“Hello, Baldrick,” Blackadder sighed. Baldrick appeared around the corner. 

“I brought you some coffee, Captain Blackadder. Nice and hot.”

With a sense of trepidation, Blackadder peered into the mug. There was an overall impression of lumpiness. Bits floated on top of the mixture; some of them were green.

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick with handfuls of rainwater.”

“Fair enough, sir,” Baldrick said easily as he moved away. Blackadder sighed and fanned away the lingering stench.

“Captain Darling?” Baldrick thrust out the mug. Darling cautiously peered over the rim and then pulled a face.

“Uh, no thank you.”

“Very well. Sir?” he said, turning back to Blackadder.

“Yes, Baldrick?” Blackadder asked wearily.

“Do you want the bad news or the good news?”

Blackadder took a deep breath, steeling himself. “The bad news.”

“A cat has done its business on Captain Darling’s bunk.”

“What?!” Darling exclaimed indignantly.

“Sorry, sir. I cleaned it up but now your blanket smells a bit.”

Blackadder felt like the clouds had parted and the sun was shining for the first time in over four months. He suppressed his grin. Darling was standing with his mouth open, apparently too appalled for words. A faint twinge of curiosity made itself known. “I thought you burnt the cat months ago?”

“This one turned up yesterday.”

“Well get rid of it. Incidentally what was the good news?”

“I’ve found us some meat for tomorrow, sir.”

“Are these two news items by any chance linked?”

“Yes, sir.”

Darling turned a shade of green.

“Ah, fine. Carry on, Private.” 

“Yes, sir,” Baldrick said as he scuttled away.

“Well, well, Darling, looks like you’re in for a treat. I hear Baldrick cooks a fine Cat Casserole, even if I’ve never dared try it myself.”

Darling shut his mouth and then smiled weakly. “Sounds delightful.”

They both fell silent once more. The trenches behind them gradually fell quiet and even the guns in the distance stopped. There was no sound except the squelch of mud underfoot and their breathing. An hour passed. And then another one. Blackadder felt like he was about to lose his mind, he was on the verge of starting a conversation with Darling just for something to do, for crying out loud. Normally whoever was on watch would crack out a game of cards or small talk in the wee hours of the night. Tonight though the man opposite him was more likely to turn him in for suggesting poker. That left conversation then, as distasteful as the thought was. Drawing a blank, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, anything at all and:

“Well, Darling, you may be a slimy little rat but at least you’re sane,” Blackadder said.

Darling’s chin was resting against his chest, his eyelids drooping with boredom. At this, he raised his head, eyes narrowing and then widening with suspicious surprise.

“Was that -- a compliment, Blackadder?”

Blackadder rolled his eyes. “Not unless you like being compared to the only animals around here that will eat Baldrick’s food.”

Darling pulled a face. Undoubtedly five days in the trenches had been an over-education in Baldrick’s cooking repertoire. 

“Besides,” Blackadder continued, “it’s not saying much around here. If sanity were a requirement for joining up, the British army would consist of five men, four of whom had simply eaten the memo.”

Darling snorted. “Anyone would look sane next to the General.”

Blackadder turned to look at him in surprise. Darling looked shocked at his own audacity, mouth hanging open slightly. “I – didn’t mean to say that.”

“Of course you did. Annoyed with the General for ousting you from the comforts of HQ are we?”

“No, certainly not. I follow orders, whatever they are, Blackadder. Unlike some.”

“Why Darling, I didn’t know you had it in you,” he paused and then added in just the right tone: “Although that would certainly explain how you got such a cushy job.” Blackadder waited a moment to let the innuendo soak in. He wasn’t disappointed. A blush crept up Darling’s neck until he was pink and blustering.

“You know perfectly well I’m a career soldier, just like you.”

“Please, Darling, we’re nothing alike.”

“I earned my position,” Darling snarled.

“Which position would that be? Missionary?”

“Now listen here,” Darling started forward. 

Blackadder pushed him back against the side of the trench. “No you listen to me, you obsequious little twerp –“

The rattling of gunfire cut him off, both of them dropping to the floor. It lasted longer this time, sand raining down from the punctured sandbags above them as they crouched in the mud.  
Eventually it fell silent again, their breathing overly loud in the absence of noise.

“For God’s sake, they just can’t leave it alone tonight,” Blackadder muttered to himself as he climbed back to his feet. 

Darling put out a hand to steady himself as he stood. It was shaking slightly. Blackadder looked up at the stars, twinkling serenely overhead, oblivious to anything below. The bastards. 

By mutual silent agreement he and Darling ignored each other for the rest of the watch.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really anything. Even calling it a snippet feels too grandiose, but I'm at a loss as to what else to call it.
> 
> Nevertheless, it's a scene that has been haunting my WIP folder for almost a decade and finally I decided to post it just as is, for whatever entertainment it can offer.
> 
> As usual, concrit is welcome.


End file.
